


The More Things Change

by TimeCloneMike



Series: Don't Trust The Flower [9]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Costumery And Theatrics, Foreshadowing Powers Activate!, Fruit Platters, In Ways That Only Kids That Care About Each Other Can Get Away With, Manners Maketh Man, Obvious Crushes Are Obvious, Prom Night, Siblings Giving Each Other A Hard Time, awkward social interactions, parents being parents, teenagers being teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeCloneMike/pseuds/TimeCloneMike
Summary: It's time for the Ebott's Wake Junior High School Prom, this year with one hundred percent less domesticated livestock breaking into the venue, or your money back!
Relationships: Frisk & Asriel & Chara, Frisk / OC
Series: Don't Trust The Flower [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/903936
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	The More Things Change

“Mom, would you stop? You’ve been obsessed with that one spot for ten minutes. Minimum!”

Toriel seemed not to hear Chara’s protest, continuing to brush and smooth over a patch of fur on her child’s head. The dog monster’s ears swiveled back and forth in agitation.

“I just want you to look your best, that is all. It is a special occasion, is it not?”

“It’s Junior Prom. Not even the real deal at the end of high school.”

“Nevertheless,” the queen countered.

“You always say nevertheless when you don’t actually have a counterpoint,” Chara grumbled.

After a few more seconds, Toriel put the brush down and picked up the lint roller.

“Before you say anything, the fur wouldn’t be everywhere if you hadn’t spent so long fussing over one spot.”

“I was not going to say anything,” the queen replied, sweeping the loose fur off of the shoulders and front of Chara’s robes. “Now turn around so that I can do your back.”

“Did you have to phrase it like that?”

“What is wrong with how I phrased my request?”

“...nothing. I just realized how complicated it would be to try to explain it.” Chara turned around, which give them a clear view of the staircase as one of their siblings descended.

“Oh, my!” Toriel paused in her grooming as she saw Frisk appear. “Frisk, you look absolutely dashing!”

Frisk paused once they reached ground level, hands coming up to adjust the lapels of the suit they were wearing; blue, with a red-and-black-striped necktie around the collar of a white shirt, black shoes polished to a near mirror shine, and wire rim spectacles perched on the bridge of their nose. Only the rat’s nest of dirty brown hair on their head disrupted the sleek image of a businessman, politician, or suave secret agent on the tail of an international criminal syndicate.

“I don’t know how, I’m not actually running anywhere.”

Chara rolled their eyes as they heard Toriel snort in amusement. “Is Asriel ready yet?”

“Well… he was in the bathroom before I went to suit up. And he was still in there after I was done. So I doubt-”

There was a thud from the floor above and a muffled “What the hell?!” Three pairs of eyes looked up at the ceiling in unison.

“Asriel?” Toriel called out. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m working on it!”

Frisk and Chara both looked at each other at the same time; minds accustomed to each other’s way of thinking through prolonged exposure reached the same conclusion at the same time, and both children headed towards the staircase, leaving Toriel holding a lint roller in the middle of the living room.

In the upstairs hallway, grumbled and muttered words could be heard coming from behind the bathroom door, some of them of the four letter variety. Chara reached out a paw and knocked on the door.

“Is everything okay-”

“I said I’m working on it!”

“Yes, but it sounds like whatever you are working on is not actually working.”

“Just gimme a- HEY!” Asriel snapped as the door started to open.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen be-”

Frisk stopped in their tracks, both verbally and in a more literal sense. Behind them, Chara was similarly dumbstruck.

The prince’s entire head, down to his neck, was dyed black, including both ears.

“ _Not. One. Word._ Just close the door so I can wash this out-”

“Asriel,” Frisk interrupted, “did you try to give yourself boy band hair _again?_ ”

The resulting silence spoke volumes, and made it that much easier to hear Toriel coming upstairs.

“Children, is something the matter?”

Asriel lunged towards the door and tried to push Frisk out of the way.

“ _Close it close it close it”_

“I have heard considerable commotion, and… ah… aheh… hehehehahahahAHAHAHA!”

Asriel’s shoulders sagged as he gave up trying to close the door.

“You know at least in dad’s shed I had privacy. Now could you all leave me alone so I can wash this out?”

“I’m not sure you’re going to have time for that.” Frisk pointed at the package of hair dye on the sink countertop. “If you tried to rinse it out, even with solvents, you’d just end up gray all over.”

“Well, I guess I’m not going. Have fun,” Asriel grumbled, pushing past his siblings, “and don’t tell anyone I made an idiot of myself this time.”

Asriel pulled open the bedroom door and slammed it behind him. Scant seconds later, the door opened and Frisk rushed in.

“Don’t start.” Asriel growled. “I am not in the mood for any high-handed lectures on self-esteem or reputation or anything like that.”

“Actually I’m just looking for something.”

“Oh.” Asriel turned towards the tablet computer on his chest of drawers, picked it up, and began tapping the screen. “Carry on then.”

A video was about to play on the tablet when Asriel felt something on his head.

“What now?!”

“Hold on, I’m still working on it.” Asriel turned to see Frisk pulling open their own chest of drawers and removing various articles of clothing, creating a small pile of specific articles, and then turned to face Asriel again. “Put down the tablet, you’re going to need both arms free for this.”

“What? No! I already said I’m not going!”

“Okay, we’re almost ready!”

Frisk opened the bedroom door and pushed a clearly reluctant Asriel out ahead of them, into the hallway where Chara and Toriel were both waiting.

“Ta-dah!”

“Oh my…” Toriel brought both paws over her mouth.

Before the queen, her son stood wrapped in a green cloak, fastened at the chest by a decorative crest in the shape of the Delta Rune. Atop his head was a pointed hat with a wide brim wrapped in leather bands and buckles, with both horns poking out. Beneath the brim of the hat, the boss monster’s face was cast in shadow, the rough uneven boundary where the hair dye had stopped spreading being concealed by a red scarf.

“You are so _adorable!_ ” Toriel reached out to pinch her son’s cheek. “Frisk, how did you manage this so quickly?”

“The cloak is just a spare sheet. The crest is from Asriel’s formal robes. The hat is half my old Halloween costume when I was Link the Hero of Hyrule, the other half is the tunic that goes with it, strategically pinned to hold a certain shape. The horn holes are the sleeves, and some belts tie it together.”

“Huh. Not bad.” Chara tapped her chin. “You do look kind of like a Boss Monster version of Gandalf. Gandalf the Green?”

“I _look_ like a mascot for a company that makes toothpaste.” Asriel snorted. “I wanted to look cool, now I look like a little kid dressed up for Halloween.”

“Well, Frisk is going as a Kingsman agent, so you’re in good company.” Chara stuck out their tongue. “The prom has no official dress code anyway. Can’t mandate black tie formal wear when half the students are monsters that may or may not even have necks.”

“Asriel, we haven’t even started High School yet. Cool is not going to happen until we’re in college, at least.” Frisk straightened their neck tie. “Besides, boy band hair is a group buff. The only way you’re sure to look cool with it is if there were four other monsters with the same hair, dressed in compatible outfits, all singing the same songs as you. It’s in the name. Boy _Band_ Hair.”

Before Asriel could respond, the doorbell rang, and Toriel immediately turned towards the stairs.

“Ah, that must be Gorey. Coming! One moment please!”

The three children followed, one of them much slower than the other two, and by the time Asriel had reached the ground floor, Asgore was already pinning flowers on the chests of the other two children.

“Oh, Gorey, you’ve outdone yourself this time!”

“I did my best. Did you know that because Golden Flowers are almost unique to this part of the surface, they were never incorporated into the symbolic language of flower meanings and arrangements?”

“I did, actually. Frisk mentioned that about a week ago.”

“Oh.” Asgore smiled. “Well, that is how I learned of it as well, so it only makes sense.”

“We can touch base on what I did and did not infodump about later, we do have a timetable to keep to.” Frisk rushed over to Asriel and pulled him towards his family. “Pin the flower on the Asriel and we can head out.”

“Actually I’ll pass.” Asriel held up his free paw. “I’ve had enough close proximity to flowers as it is.”

“That is fair, although I was hoping you would allow me to show you what I had worked on first.” Asgore opened a bag and began unwrapping paper from around what turned out to be… a golden flower, but with small cardboard biceps attached to the stem.

Before he could muffle it, Asriel snorted in amusement.

“Okay fine. I already look like a doofus as it is. Maybe reminding people of my sordid past will let me salvage some credibility.”

“Oh my son, you do not look like a doofus.” Toriel reached out to pinch her son’s cheek once more as Asgore pinned the flower to Asriel’s cloak. “You are a very handsome young boss monster. You only feel awkward because you are at an awkward age, and every other monster and human at the Auditorium will be feeling just as awkward.”

“I… _don’t_ believe you.”

Toriel stuck out her tongue and pulled her son into a hug.

“Mothers know these things. Besides, your father and I are very old. We’ve seen this happen with every generation, without exception.”

“It’s true. You tend to notice these things after the first few centuries. Now go on, enjoy yourself.”

“But not too much,” Toriel interrupted, her voice switching back into Concerned Parent mode. “Be back by ten thirty at the latest. Do not get into any fights or sparring matches. Do not let Frisk jump into any rifts, and-”

“That was ONE TIME! And it was YEARS AGO!”

“-and if anyone at the prom is trying to sneak alcohol or other illicit chemistry into the venue, you are to return home immediately. Understood?”

“ _Yes_ , mom, we understand.” Frisk half sprinted to the front door and held it open. “Now let’s _go_ already!”

“Yoooooo!”

The trio of Dreemurr siblings stopped outside the Memorial Auditorium at the sound of a familiar yell. Down the street was a mixed group of teenagers, humans and monsters; the one that had called out to the Dreemurrs towering above the other four.

“Hey Poncho!” Frisk waved at the dinosaur monster. “Nice outfit!”

“Thanks! Douglas and Mary said it looks like something out of _Dinotopia_ , whatever that is.”

“Oh, yeah, I can see that, now that you mention it.” Frisk turned to the rest of the group, taking in the details of their outfits. Mary and Casey were both sporting elegant formal dresses with floral embellishments; notwithstanding the altered tailoring needed for Casey’s wings, it was clear they had coordinated matching outfits. Douglas, on the other hand, looked incredibly awkward in a miniaturized tuxedo suited for a teenager’s frame but otherwise not fitted properly to the young man’s physique. It was also clear from his expression that he was fully aware of the fact.

“Oh good, I’m not the only one,” Asriel muttered under his breath.

Frisk almost didn’t hear it, as they looked up to see the fifth member of the group hovering above the rest; a single wing airplane with twin turboprop engines, wearing custom nose art and, upon closer inspection, a tail number.

“Skate, you… uh, you… look, um… you look-”

“Great,” Chara whispered into Frisk’s ear.

“You great look. I mean. You look great.”

Asriel half-muffled a snort with one paw.

“Actually maybe this won’t be so bad after all.”

Chara reached up behind Asriel’s head and flicked him with one claw.

“Dork.”

“Nerd,” was the immediate reply.

“Well… ah. Where were we. Right. In front of the Auditorium. Let’s change that, and. Go inside.” Frisk stammered.

Frisk turned to lead the group towards the doors, and so they did not see Mary point up at Skate. If they heard Mary’s stage whisper of “I told you so,” they did not behave in a way that indicated it.

“I don’t know why they had to hold the prom in the Auditorium. I mean, people got attacked here. You got _shot_ here.”

Frisk waved a hand as if Douglas’s comment was a housefly they were trying to get rid of without swatting it.

“I’ve been shot lots of places.”

Past the doors, through the lobby, eight young monsters and humans made their way into a large, haphazardly decorated public space; it appeared that there had been two different factions that disagreed on the theme and they had been fighting for territory like competing empires. One side was ostentatious and obvious, with balloons, banners, ribbons and crepe paper; the other side was somewhat more reserved with formal and semi formal table settings, floral bouquets, named place cards and tables organized in a clear and logical arrangement to allow maximum foot traffic with the minimum of congestion. The open area between the two clashing styles, while likely intended as a dance floor, looked more like a demilitarized zone.

“Chara! Hey Chara!”

The dog monster’s ears perked up as they turned to see a dragon monster standing by a table of refreshments, holding a paper plate stacked with appetizers and finger foods.

“Hey!” Chara turned to the group. “I’m gonna go catch up, see you guys later!”

“You spend every moment after school talking to them on Discord, how much could change in forty five minutes,” Frisk muttered, before turning to look up at Skate. “Uhm. I’ll get us some snacks if you want to find us a table.”

“Uhm. Okay.” The plane monster sped off, making a circle around the auditorium before coming in for a landing at an empty table.

Mary looked at Casey. “That sounds like a plan to me. I’ll get us food if you can get us seats, or we could just use the table Skate grabbed. You want anything in particular?”

“Fruit. And fruit derivatives.”

“...right. I don’t actually know why I asked the question when I already knew the answer.” Mary made her way over to one of the tables, grabbed a paper plate, and began raiding one of the fruit platters.

“Hello Ms. Metzinger, can I get a comment from you for the school paper?”

Mary looked up to see an owl monster holding a notepad in one feathered hand, and a miniature voice recorder in the other.

“Do you have to call me that?”

“When I’m acting in my professional capacity as a student reporter, I think it’s only fair to maintain a professional attitude with professional distance.”

“...can’t argue with that, I suppose. What kind of comment are you fishing for?”

“General mood, state of the prom, political commentary? I’m flexible.”

“...well. People are standing around, looking uncomfortable, wearing clothes that don’t always look right on them. My parents both say that kind of thing is par for the course, I don’t know if I believe them. The thing about adults is that they so often forget what it was like to be teenagers, or they remember only the parts they want to remember. And they also grew up in a different world than the one we’re growing up in. Which, of course, was different from the world our grandparents grew up in.”

“Kind of like, the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

Mary frowned and popped a grape into her mouth.

“No, not really. Everything changes, nothing stays the same. People just try to convince themselves that they stay the same so they aren’t overwhelmed by living in a world figuratively made out of quicksand-”

A series of shrill screams echoed throughout the Auditorium, cutting off Mary’s social commentary; a number of teenage girls had swarmed around a figure in a green cloak.

“He’s so cute!”

“I want to pet him!”

“Out of the way, I was here first!”

“CHARA! FRISK! _SOMEBODY HELP!_ ” Asriel yelled before being almost buried in a swarm of overeager humans until all that could be seen was one paw trying to reach out for assistance.

Mary turned back to the owl monster.

“Okay, _some_ things stay the same.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Undertale Anniversary, everybody! :D


End file.
